I feel like everybody else is as behind in reading blogs as I am, and so I'm not going to feel guilty about it. If you're getting a comment from me on a weeks-old post, I'm sure you won't mind.
As for other things, can I just say that having your 7-yr-old nephew sleep over is a cure-all for many things? It really gave me no time at all to sit and obsess about some of the things that have been happening, and I'm kind of grateful for that.
My aunt is staying in the hospital till at least Tuesday - they still don't know what caused her to pass out, or why she's so anemic (I still vote for the whole, you have to eat food to get nutrients thing, but I'm not doctor). My dad is still on vacation, and I have only wanted to kill him 3 or 4 times. I'm still trying to do battle with this last flare, hopefully in time to get ready for the next, post-Thanksgiving flare. (I have, in fact, missed out on Thanksgiving before - twice - and so, won't do so again unless absolutely necessary. Let me explain to you how much I love gravy...)
But back to the sleepover.
Except for the fact that baby talk and whining are apparently Youngest Nephew's newest favored forms of communication (and the fact that Auntie NTE does not hear either of those things, which confused him a lot), we had a fabulous time.
We played computer games; he showed me his Webkinz' house & let me feed them (woo hoo); We played Clue Jr about 7 times.
He ate cold pizza for lunch and had dinner at 8:30 (I told you Dad was home - he was obviously in charge of dinner as well).
He got up at 7:30 this morning, came into my (freezing - where was the HEAT??) room, snuggled under the covers and we played Would you rather... He'd rather learn to scuba dive than learn to climb a mountain, btw, and I'd rather have him build me a house than try to build a house out of Legos.
He made scrapbook pages for his Mum & Dad, while I tried to do some but kept getting distracted by the glitter. And the scraps of paper that were flying in the air. And the mess.
We listened to the Animaniacs and Schoolhouse Rock.
He watched his first Looney Tunes cartoon with my dad - and laughed.
He told me he loved me about a million times and left a message on my dry erase board that reads:
To A. NTE:
Hihooowaaaaaaaaaahya? This is from a book we both love, The Wicked Big Toddlah.
I slout you. He is not, contrary to Mum's opinion, calling me a slut. He salutes me... aw..
And I love you.
Love, ? Secret messages are verrry popular in our family.
(Relly, it's from Youngest Nephew) That says "really," andd he signed it in cursive! He's getting so big.
You just can't beat that, if you ask me.
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